


Welcome to Cecil's Recording Studio

by violasarecool



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, Night Vale Community Radio, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violasarecool/pseuds/violasarecool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>short parodyesque video script written as if the reader is watching cecil live in his studio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to Cecil's Recording Studio

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally going to be a cosplay video but it never ended up happening. i figure if i do for some reason ever decide to record it, it doesnt hurt anything to have it on ao3 as well.

  **INT. CECIL PALMER'S RECORDING STUDIO - DAYTIME**

 

CECIL sits at his desk, papers scattered across the surface, a mug sitting precariously near the edge of a cardboard box. A microphone points down toward the desk, and he reaches around the cord of his headphones to tug the microphone toward him.

**CECIL  
** The twinkling lights in the sky grow ever closer. They're coming for you. Welcome—

There is a buzzing noise. CECIL looks down.

**CECIL (CONT'D)  
** Hold on, listeners, I just got a text... Oh my god. Carlos just sent me the most adorable picture of a baby gecko, I wish you could see this. 

CECIL taps away at his phone for a few minutes. Then, he looks up as if noticing the microphone for the first time, and puts his phone down. He clears his throat.

**CECIL (CONT'D)  
** Welcome... to Night Vale.

Cut to black.

Cut back to CECIL, singing along to intro music. A title card overlays that reads "Welcome to Cecil's Recording Studio". As he sings, he begins conducting, swaying back and forth. He waves a hand, and just as the music is finishing, backhands the mic with a loud thud.

**CECIL  
** Shi—

Cut to black.

Cut back in to CECIL, sitting composed at his desk once more.

**CECIL  
** Have you ever wondered why you have so much phlegm? All that green mucus oozing out of your every orifice, no matter how many times you blow your nose, or sacrifice to the bloodstones in your bathroom? And, I mean, even science can't explain it! it's just there, all the time, and—

He is cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. He answers it.

**CECIL (CONT'D)  
** Hello? Listeners, it's my boyfriend, you know, Carlos the scientist? Mmhm... mm... Oh. He says it  _can_  be explained by science.

He continues listening, making the occasional sound of agreement.

**CECIL (CONT'D)  
**...And the purple mucus, is that like—oh... well, I guess some things just can't be explained.

Jump cut.

**CECIL  
** Maureen? Maureen, have you seen my clipboard since that weird tentacle-beast took over the lower offices?

He pauses as if listening to someone offscreen speaking, then turns to look at the camera, and shakes his head.

**CECIL (CONT'D)  
** Tentacle beasts, right?

Jump cut to Cecil sipping coffee.

Jump cut to Cecil being handed a piece of paper by someone standing just offscreen.

**CECIL  
** Oh, thank you.

He briefly scans the piece of paper before turning back to the microphone.

**CECIL (CONT'D)  
** Breaking news, listeners. John Peters, you know, the farmer? has reported seeing a strange aubergine glow in the empty car lot behind the Arby's. When asked by a passing reporter where exactly the source of the light was, or if he could give any more specific details than its colour, he made a sort of humming noise, and wiggled his fingers, whispering, "you know what I mean", before skipping away. If anyone  _does_  know what he meant, please leave a note at the station, or tap out your message in morse code on the nearest kitchen appliance.

Jump cut.

**CECIL  
** And now... the weather.

Jump cut to CECIL playing the ukulele. Badly. The instrument isn't even in tune, and he enthusiastically hums a melody  _just_  out of tune with the ukulele. The overall effect is adorably earnest. 

Fade to black.

Cut to CECIL back at his desk sans ukulele.

**CECIL  
** I wonder if Maureen ever fed Koschekh...

He goes to stand, but his headphones are still over his ears. The cord goes taut, and he crashes to the ground with a strangled shriek. Cut to black.

**Author's Note:**

> please _don't give me crit_ , constructive or not, even if you feel the need to point out a typo, i would appreciate it if you didn't. i do this for fun, and once i've posted something, i don't really want to think about it critically anymore. thanks.


End file.
